Weekend so far.

I drove up on Friday evening - catching the Now Show on Radio 4. It was the last one of the series and had a very good Radiohead spoof by Mitch "a friend of at least three friends of mine, actually" Benn. It should still be available, as I write, on the BBC website.

I didn't do anything on Friday evening after I arrived, because I was knackered, so I made do with getting up early and going wandering. I passed Dave Vanian and Auntie Pat on George IV Bridge on my ramblings, before heading back to the abode of gingiber and anonymouSETH. They'd looked out some of their old photos from ten years ago. I don't ever remember looking that young. Or being that thin. It was very distressing.

In the afternoon we went to a picnic on the meadows to celebrate Red Alex's birthday, and after that I went back for a quick lie down and a bite, before going over to teviot for Gigantor. Many people, not all of whom I managed to talk to (sorry!), and a whole bundle of tragic musics for them to listen to and decry. I've made a few notes of interesting lyrics from the stuff we played, and you can exect them to turn up as a quiz later in the week. Notably, we also played Johnny Cash's version of Hurt. People danced. Good call, Lara. I'm back at their's now, and I've just mentioned that somebody's been playing the old International Werewolf Conspiracy stuff to his friends. Her only comment was that she can't remember the lyrics any more.

Later I'll drive back down. Various people asked last night whether I was stopping off in Leeds to see the Screaming Banshee Aircrew. I'm not, as it happens. Actually, I should probably also mention that Positively Punk was asked for. And danced to. They seem to be quite popular up here. I've been posing frantically as A Friend Of The Band, Honest. I don't think anyone believed me.

Safely back, after an uneventful drive. Also, I saw a grey heron flying over central Edinburgh, which was a bit unexpected. It might have been on its way fron Duddingston Loch to . . . the Union Canal, perhaps.

On the way down, I was listening to . . . Deathboy (alright, but didn't really grab me. I'd been impressed by the demos I heard a year or so back. I'll obviously have to listen to them again. Too long, also, in my view. Three to four minutes per song, guys . . .), Psychophile (shorter on average, but Darklight's still twice as long as it should be. Kudos for the UVS cover, obviously. Overall, I like - but at points I was unpleasantly reminded that Sheep On Drugs' crimes against alternative music remain, strangely, entirely unpunished. Liven up the guitar parts? Please?), and NMA (yes, yes, Chunder & Constipation is still, after all of these years, one of the best records I have. I remember, ten or more years ago, karmicnull telling me that he really liked NMA but couldn't listen to more than half an album at a time because he couldn't handle that much anger in one go. I'm not sure, but I may be starting to see what he meant. Alternatively, the fact that the CD has a couple of EPs worth of extra anger on it may be the crucial point here).
"I've just mentioned that somebody's been playing the old International Werewolf Conspiracy stuff to his friends."

??? Do you mean Simon?
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Ahhh, great you like the cover we did.

Glad to see you have the taste not to like the original stuff ;)

What did you think to concrete elephant? That's one sibelian is very responsible for :)

Still can't remember the words :(
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Actually I did like the original stuff. I'm just teasing about Wombling Free. I only heard the tape once and it was in the back of a car going up a motorway so it wasn't that clear, but I do remember "I don't want to go to Basingstoke" as that was on another Tony compilation tape we were listening to another time.
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Oh good grief, I had almost forgotten about that one.

Tho' the sentiments still ring very true :)
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Still can't remember the words :(

Neither can sibelian. The bit that sticks in my head is something like
I've got Richard Nixon's earlobes
I've got Ronald Reagan's head
I've got a copy of Calvin Coolidge
I'll get Gorby when he's dead

I've got herpes, I've got rabies
I've had sex with Henry's Cat
I've got music, I've got rhythm
I don't care about any of that, because

What I want, what I want, what I really, really want
Is a concrete elephant,
A concrete elephant.
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Hrim, sounds plausable, but a couple of the lines I'm not sure about.

That does it, I may be forced to get the tape out and listen to it again.
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Don't suppose someone with plenty of time on their hands feels like ripping 'So, well, that's it then'? I've completely lost my copy, and I had a vague plan to stick it on the web if I ever found it.

Still profoundly glad I didn't take that job in Basingstoke...

I've still got what I think is one of the 4-track cassette masters kicking about, I think. I don't know what it's the master of, though.
Following a discussion on gingiber's LJ, the big question has become :

Sod your copy, what about the DAT master?
I did actually see you, but as I say I didn't catch up with everyone I should have talked to.

... a very good Radiohead spoof

It was. But the Shipping Forecast was a work of dadaist genius!